


Roommate Wanted

by slendermanhood



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternative title for this fic: Lance has a gay nervous breakdown, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of swearing!, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Roommates, Sexuality Crisis, Smut.... kinda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slendermanhood/pseuds/slendermanhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There is absolutely no way Keith and I will ever become friends,</i> Lance thought angrily to himself. He attended Lance’s dream school, the school that harshly rejected him because he wasn’t good enough. And Keith goes there on a scholarship?!  </p><p>Lance can’t reject him as a roommate, because his rent was due next week. <i>But,</i> he promised to himself, <i>that stuffy douchebag and I will never be friends, I swear it. </i> </p><p>Pidge told him before not to make a stupid rivalry out of this, but Lance can’t help it. He was going to make Keith regret he ever crossed paths with Lance Sanchez. </p><p>(In which Lance and Keith are roommates, then enemies, then friends, then enemies again, then lovers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roommate Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone!! this is my first voltron fic, and i had to write an AU fic because i'm SUPER bad at writing sci-fi. 
> 
> OKAY. here we go. the disclaimer area. 
> 
> i've never lived on my own in an apartment, i've never had to pay rent and i don't know HOW you pay rent or what happens if you don't pay rent, i've never used craigslist, and i don't know what kind of people use craigslist. so all of this stuff i'm writing from my ass, or i'm taking stuff i've read from fics.
> 
> also, i used sanchez as lance's last name, because i've read other voltron fics where that is his last name, and i think it's pretty good. i used they/them pronouns for pidge, because idk if i should refer to them with male or female pronouns. however, i will say for the record that i am ALL FOR trans boy pidge. please make that happen, dreamworks studio. 
> 
> i put them in phoenix, arizona, because in the show it looked like their school was in a desert area, so i decided they were probably in arizona/nevada, and i think arizona is a cooler place to put them in. so, yeah. they go to school in arizona. pidge, hunk, and lance all go to arizona state university, and keith goes to some prestigious pilot university in phoenix that doesn't exist that i made up. it's pretty clever though.. the Lindbergh Institute of Aviation and Technology sounds totally real. 
> 
> anyway, please enjoy!!!! kudos and comments are much appreciated!!!

Lance dropped the extremely heavy box he was holding on the floor of his new apartment and took in a deep breath through his nose. “Do you fellas smell that?” 

Pidge and Hunk dropped their boxes as well, both of them panting from having to carry endless boxes up and down three flights of stairs. There was no elevator in the building, but that didn’t stop Lance from loving everything about his new home. 

It was a small apartment building in a slightly dangerous area of the city, but the rent wasn’t too bad and the apartment was bigger than most in the area. It had four rooms -- two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen/living room. The walls were slightly yellow and everything was currently covered in a thin layer of dust, but Lance didn’t mind at all. He finally had his own place to live after years and years of being crammed in a house full of people and, after heading to college, a dorm full of people. 

“Smell what? The smell of your body odor, or the strong stench of mothballs in this gross apartment?” Pidge grinded out, glaring at Lance. 

Lance decided to ignore Pidge’s jab and instead took another deep breath. “It’s the smell of freedom and independence, boys.” 

Hunk sniffed around, looking thoughtful. “No, no. I agree with Pidge. It smells like sweat and mothballs.” 

Lance whirled on his two friends. “Do you guys always have to be so negative?” he complained, crossing his arms. 

Pidge rolled their eyes. “You’re the most negative one out of all of us, Lance. We’re just trying to be realistic -- this isn’t a good idea. You really should stay on campus.” 

“Pidge, this is the best idea I’ve had in years. Living alone gives you a sense of freedom and independence! I won’t have to share a bathroom with everyone on my floor, I won’t have to deal with the shitty dorm beds, I’m finally a man living on his own! I have my own bachelor pad now.”

“You’re not a bachelor, dude. Plus, you’re not going to be free and independent for much longer. You have to find a roommate,” said Hunk, laughing at the pout that formed on Lance’s mouth. 

“That’s all trivial matters. What is _really_ important is that _the ladies_ \--” both Hunk and Pidge groaned at this, “--find guys with their own apartments more attractive.” 

“Whatever you say, Lance,” Pidge muttered. “Just know that you’re probably going to regret this soon enough when you realize how hard it is to live on your own.” 

Lance snorted. “Please. What could possibly go wrong?”

\--

Everything was going wrong.

Lance had to walk twenty minutes every day to get to his nearest class. By the time he arrived, he was late and sweaty from running, causing his professor to yell at him while the entire class stared at his pit stains. 

He also had no idea how to cook and all he was eating was instant ramen, which was clearly taking a toll on his health -- he probably gained six pounds since he started living in his apartment. The few times he tried to cook, he set off the fire alarm and caused the entire building to evacuate. 

_And the worst of it all_ , Lance thought miserably as he opened up the letter from his landlord, _is that I have no way to pay this rent._

He scanned the letter, wincing at the number at the bottom. He then read it again, looking for a date that it was due, then winced even harder, if possible. 

It was due in a week. 

He was _so screwed._

Lance grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed Pidge’s number, his heart thumping from anxiety. Surely Pidge would know what to do in this situation? They’ve never let him down before… 

“Dude, you’re screwed,” Pidge deadpans after Lance told them his situation. 

Lance moaned in agony into the phone speaker. “Pidge, please, you _have_ to help me. If I don’t pay this rent in a week, I’m going to get kicked out. I don’t even know if I have time to try to find a roommate. I don’t know _where_ to find a roommate!” 

Pidge sighed loudly. “Have you tried Craigslist?” 

“... Do you _want_ me to invite a murderer into my apartment and die?” 

“Lance…” 

“Pidge, Craiglist is so shady! The only people that look for roommates on that website are perverts and weirdos!” Lance wailed, his voice going up several octaves. 

“ _Lance…_ ” 

“I can’t, Pidge, I just can’t! I have too might dignity, too much pride to stoop to that level. I will not cave in! Lance Sanchez will find a roommate without Craigslist no matter what!” he announced proudly.

\--

Five hours later, Pidge was rubbing his back as he made a Craigslist account. Hunk was rummaging through his fridge, grumbling about the lack of food.

“It’s not like you’ve never had your pride damaged before, Lance,” said Pidge, still rubbing his back. “Remember that one time in that Applebee’s when you tried to flirt with the waitress and she spat on--” 

“ _Yes_ , Pidge, I get it.” 

Pidge sighed. “It’s not as bad as you think, Lance. Maybe someone decent will reply to your ad. Maybe the two of you will become friends.” 

“Maybe she’ll be a hot babe!” Hunk called sarcastically from the kitchen. 

“Yeah. Yeah!” Lance exclaimed, suddenly fired up. “She’ll be a hot babe, and we’ll have a hot and steamy romance. She’ll have a _huge_ rack and--” 

“ _Lance_. Enough.” 

Lance spreaded his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay.” 

Pidge helped him write his ad while Hunk sat to the side, snickering every once and awhile at Lance and Pidge’s bickering and offering advice occasionally. After a while, the three of them finally came up with a decent ad to put out.

  
**ROOMMATE WANTED**  
My name is Lance Sanchez, and I am looking for a roommate to split rent with me in my apartment. I live in downtown Phoenix in Arizona and I attend college locally. If you are interesting in having your own bedroom in my apartment, you must fit the following criteria… 

a) You cannot be a murderer, or have had any past of thinking about murder in any way.  
b) You cannot be creepy. Please don’t be creepy.  
c) You have to be somewhat aesthetically pleasing. If you’re a hot babe, your application will be sent to the front of the pile.  
d) Please be good at cooking. I’m begging you. 

If these criteria fit you, please contact me at… 

Pidge noded, looking at Lance. “I mean, the stuff about the ‘hot babe’ is pretty dumb, but it’s your ad.”

“I think it’s great, man,” said Hunk, giggling. “You’re really going to find some hot babes to live with you.” 

“Thank you, Hunk,” Lance said smugly, high-fiving Hunk. Pidge rolled their eyes, exasperated. 

“I constantly wonder why I’m friends with the two of you.”

\--

After the three of them finished the ad, they all sat down and watched some original straight-to-DVD movie on the Syfy channel. Pidge and Hunk were laughing hysterically at the crappy CGI effects, but Lance’s heart wasn’t in it. He was stuck on the roommate issue, wondering what kind of person will be living with him soon enough. What if a girl seriously responded to his ad? What if she actually _found him attractive_?

Lance fantasized about this all night, sending off Pidge and Hunk in a daze. He fell into a restless sleep that night, tossing and turning, wishing he can turn on his laptop and check his ad to see who had replied to it. He eventually fell asleep, though, and when he woke up he instantly headed towards his computer, turning it on and checking Craigslist. 

He had three messages. His stomach did a flip inside of him, and he hurriedly opened up his inbox. 

The first message was a bit long, and Lance quickly scanned it. It was from a man named Steven Turdson, who was thirty-seven and still single. He had been living with his mother until now. This raised a few flags for Lance, but Steven was still a contender... until the end of the letter.

_I have a large collection of antique dolls that I like to keep with me. I have a few hundred, so I might not be able to keep them all in my room--_

“Nope.” Lance said out loud. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.”

Lance opened up the second message, which was short, sweet, and to the point. It simply read:

_What is your age, height, and weight? Can I have a picture of you?_

Lance rubbed his eyes, frustrated. He almost didn’t even want to read the last message. Did these people not understand what he meant by _”You cannot be creepy. Please don’t be creepy”_?!

Sighing loudly, Lance clicked open the third message.

_Hello.  
My name is Keith, and I’m interested in taking up your offer for a roommate. I attend school in Phoenix, and I’ve been looking for an apartment to live in. I believe I fit all of your “criteria” and I would be interested in further correspondence with you. Thanks. _

_Huh,_ Lance thought, dazed. _This guy isn’t bad._

Lance shooted him a message back, and they worked out the specifics of the arrangement -- where the apartment is, how many rooms there were, what the rent is -- and Lance felt a bit of hope rise in him. This Keith guy didn’t sound bad at all -- he’s was normal, didn’t seem too creepy, was of college age, and claimed he can cook well. 

They exchanged phone numbers and worked out the rest of the arrangement over text. When all was completed, Lance quickly phoned up Pidge. 

“Dude!” He shouted into the phone. He can hear tired groaning on the other side. 

“Lance, it’s nine in the morning,” said Pidge miserably, and Lance heard shuffling that suggested they were getting out of bed and putting on their glasses. 

“Pidge, I found a roommate! And he’s probably not a murderer!” exclaimed Lance, a grin threatening to rise up on his face. 

“Huh. How do you know he’s not a murderer?” 

“...Because he sounds normal?” 

“Lance, I’ve watched enough NCIS to know that the normal ones are _always_ the murderers.” 

Lance swallowed. “...What?” 

“I’m messing with you, dude. I’m glad you found someone. Do you know if he’s a hot babe?” 

Lance sputtered and fell onto his shitty excuse for a couch. “T-There’s no way he’d be a hot babe! He’s a guy!” 

“Hmm,” hummed Pidge, sounding amused. 

Before Lance could respond with something incredibly witty, like he always did, his phone rang with the sound of an incoming text. He took his phone away from his ear and saw it was from Keith. 

“I’ll call you later, Pidge,” said Lance, then he hung up and checked the text.

  
**From: Keith**  
_What university do you go to in Phoenix, anyway?_

**To: Keith**  
_i go 2 arizona state university. how about u? :D_

**From: Keith**  
_I go to the Lindbergh Institute of Aviation and Technology. Have you heard of it?_

Lance felt himself go pale, and he dropped his phone. Had Lance heard of it? _Had Lance heard of it?!_

That was the name of the school that has haunted him for years. Ever since he was a kid, he dreamed of becoming a pilot. He planned to go to school to become a pilot, and the best school in the country for piloting was the Lindbergh Institute of Aviation and Technology. But, not only is it the best, it’s also the hardest to get into. 

Lance failed miserably at their entrance exam, and the school hardly looked at him after they completely rejected him. He was miserable for a long time afterwards, and gave up his dream of becoming a pilot to instead go to a regular university. The school had, quite literally, killed his dreams. 

And his new roommate, Keith, went to his dream school. 

Lance felt bitterness rise up his throat, and he tried to make his text to Keith as passive aggressive as possible.

  
**To: Keith**  
_oh, ive heard of it before. its super cool that u go there._

**From: Keith**  
_Thanks, man. I got a full scholarship to the school. It’s pretty sick._

“OH! It’s pretty SICK, is it?!” screamed Lance to himself, throwing his phone down violently. He can’t believe his future roommate would treat him like this! The sarcasm in that text was highly offensive!

He took screenshots of the texts and sent them to Pidge and Hunk, with the message _i cant believe how passive aggressive he is being?!?! can u guys believe this?!?!_ under it. 

Pidge called him a minute later. 

“Lance, first of all, that’s not passive aggressive, you’re just interpreting it that way. Your text was a pretty bad attempt at passive aggressiveness,” Lance deflated. “Secondly, you better not let this turn into some kind of stupid rivalry. Just because he got into your dream school, it doesn’t mean you’re justified in treating him horribly.” 

“Oh, but wait, Pidge, do you hear that?” 

“...Hear what?” 

“The sound of me _turning this into some stupid rivalry!_ ” 

Pidge snorted. “That makes no sense.” 

“You make no sense!” Lance angrily hung up, and started to pace his apartment, fuming. 

_There is absolutely no way Keith and I will ever become friends,_ Lance thought angrily to himself. He attended Lance’s dream school, the school that harshly rejected him because he wasn’t good enough. And Keith goes there on a scholarship?! 

Lance can’t reject him as a roommate, because his rent was due next week. _But,_ he promised to himself, _that stuffy douchebag and I will never be friends, I swear it._

Pidge told him before not to make a stupid rivalry out of this, but Lance can’t help it. He was going to make Keith regret he ever crossed paths with Lance Sanchez.

\--

Keith moved in on a Monday. Lance was standing by the window of his small apartment, waiting for the U-Haul truck to park outside his apartment building -- signalizing the arrival of Keith. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, nerves clawing at his stomach. What if Keith was a lot larger than him? What if Keith could beat the hell out of him if Lance started something?

Lance continued to bounce anxiously until he saw the U-Haul truck drive around the corner of the block. His heart rate increased tenfold, and he pressed his face against the window, trying to get a glimpse of Keith before he came inside. 

The truck driver came out first, then someone came out of the passenger side. All Lance saw from his window was black hair and a red jacket, but he seemed like a normal, lanky teenager. Lance let out a huge breath, then put on his shoes and headed downstairs. 

When he walked out of the building, he finally saw Keith close up. The guy had a mullet-esque haircut, which made Lance snort internally. He was wearing dark clothes with a red jacket on top, and… oh god... _fingerless gloves_ \-- 

Lance can’t help a snort from escaping this time, and Keith turned around. The two of them eyed each other, not saying anything. 

Keith broke the silence. “Uh. So, are you Lance?” 

Lance tried his best to put on a “cool guy” face. “I am.” 

More silence. Keith blinked, looking vaguely frustrated -- most likely because of how awkward this exchange was. 

“Well, uh, I’m Keith. You probably know that.” 

“I do.” 

More silence. Keith looked like he wanted to die. 

“So, uh, nice to meet you?” 

“Yup.” 

Keith finally snapped. “Okay, are you just quiet or are you acting like an asshole on purpose?” 

Lance faked indignation. “How rude, I was just trying to welcome my new roommate!” he sneered, crossing his arms. “I didn’t know he would be such a douchebag, though.” 

Keith turns red, gaping like a fish, and Lance grins. 

“Welcome to my apartment, Keith,” he said unkindly, then turned around and walked back up to his apartment.

\--

As soon as he got back into his apartment, Lance went to his own room and silently listened as the movers hauled Keith’s belongings up the stairs. He may had gone overboard with the whole “don’t be nice to Keith” thing, but it’s not like he could change what he’s started. Better they become enemies sooner rather than later.

A few hours later, the movers stopped coming in and out, and Lance put away the game he’d been playing on his Nintendo DS in order to sneak up near his door and listen. Bangs sounded from the kitchen -- the sound of someone opening and shutting the pantry in frustration. 

Lance slipped out of his room and watched as Keith tried desperately to look for some food that wasn’t instant ramen. It was a futile effort. 

“Didn’t you say you could cook?” asked Lance from his position in the doorway of the kitchen/living room. 

Keith jumped in surprise, which Lance enjoyed. “I can, but you have nothing in your pantry but ramen. And the only things in your refrigerator--” he opened up the fridge, “-- are… orange juice and bread.” 

“The breakfast of champions.” Lance commented solemnly. 

Keith scowled and slammed the fridge shut. “Why the hell did I ever think this was a good idea?” he asked to himself, turning away from Lance and continuing to raid Lance’s pantry. 

“I don’t know, why did you? Doesn’t the Lindbergh Institute have really nice dorms? Why not stay on campus instead?” asked Lance, pretending to be nonchalant. In reality, he was extremely curious -- the Lindbergh Institute’s dorms were apparently one of the best in the nation’s. He had no idea why Keith would want to live on his own rather than on his school’s fancy campus. 

“I…” Keith trailed off, turning red. “I don’t have many, um, acquaintances at my school. My only friend, Shiro, is moving out to live with his girlfriend, Allura.” 

Lance blinked, confused. “So? Can’t you make new friends?” 

Keith looked humiliated, but he continued anyway. “I don’t really have a good reputation at my school.” 

_Ah,_ Lance thought to himself. _So I’m not the only one who thinks he’s a douchebag._

Instead of voicing this thought, Lance said: “You’re lucky you found me, then.” 

Keith looked Lance up and down. “Yeah, super lucky,” he said tiredly, then took the bread from out of the fridge.

\--

Lance woke up at exactly 6:30 AM to the sound of someone walking around the apartment.

His first thought was: _There’s a fucking murderer in my apartment, holy shit--_

Then he heard a bang from the living room area, and excessive swearing. Memories flooded back, and Lance inwardly groaned. _Oh, yeah,_ he thought bitterly. _How could I forget about my new roommate?_

Lance practically forced himself to get up, putting on a shirt and some sweatpants. He was gearing up to yell at Keith -- _who the fuck wakes up at 6:30 in the morning?!_ \-- when he saw Keith dressed in running gear, putting on some sneakers. 

“You going for a run?” asked Lance, exhaustion lacing his voice. 

Keith jumped, then looked frustrated at Lance’s smug look. “Stop doing that. And yes, I am. I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He doesn’t sound very sorry. 

An idea hit Lance, and he grinned. “Hey, I’ll come with you!” 

He runs over to Keith and dug out some sneakers from the pile of shoes next to the doorway, then started lacing them up while Keith stared at him. 

“Okay, yesterday you greeted me with one word answers and called me a douchebag. Now you want to come with me on a run. Are you crazy or just sociopathic?” 

“Hey, Keith, I was in a bad mood yesterday. You can’t blame me for that!” exclaimed Lance, standing up. “Let’s go for a run, we can get some groceries too!” 

Keith still looked skeptical, but he eventually agreed. The two headed out together, walking out of the building and into the hot morning air of Phoenix. 

Keith instantly set a fast jogging pace, and Lance had to really exert himself in order to keep up. Soon enough, he got used to the pace and began to move ahead. He saw Keith’s eyes narrow out of the corner of his eye, and he started to speed up in order to catch up with Lance. Then, once they were in sync again, Keith moved ahead, and Lance had to speed up to catch up with him. 

This cycle continued until the two of them were sprinting as fast as they could down the streets of Phoenix, narrowly missing people and cars. Both of them were wheezing, their lungs burning. 

Finally, the pair had to stop when Lance stopped in front of a trash can and violently threw up due to exertion. Keith was just a few feet away, his hands on his knees, wheezing. 

“Fuck… You…” Keith gritted out, glaring at Lance in-between breaths. 

Lance wiped his mouth then turned to grin at Keith. “Fuck you too.”

\--

The vicious cycle of trying to constantly one-up each continued in their shared apartment. They would have little competitions for everything -- for brushing teeth, for shower time, for how fast they could finish their dinner, how fast they could stock the pantry after going grocery shopping -- it became pathetic after a while. Pidge voiced this one day, while they and Hunk were sitting in Lance’s cheap kitchen chairs watching Lance and Keith violently stock their fridge.

Keith, much to Lance’s dismay, got along very well with Pidge and Hunk. When they came over during Keith’s third day living with Lance, Pidge and Hunk instantly struck up a conversation with Keith and they all became fast friends. 

“You guys can’t continue this stupid rivalry thing forever,” stated Hunk, mesmerised by Lance and Keith’s rapid stocking pace. 

“Yes, we can,” Keith grinded out, elbowing Lance in order to grab the milk from the shopping bag and slam it on one of the shelves in the fridge. 

“What are you guys even trying to prove?” asked Pidge, sounding completely done with the situation. “All these random competitions are just making you guys hate each other even more. As stupid as it sounds, you guys have to talk it out.” 

“No,” Lance and Keith said in unison, and continued stocking. Both of them were convinced that they would never get along -- they hardly looked at each other anymore, much less _talked_ to each other, except when they did their silly competitions. 

The only time they talked outside of their competitions is when they yelled at each other for small things -- like if Lance moved Keith’s stuff, or if Keith used some of Lance’s shampoo -- and it was getting to be emotionally draining. 

Pidge put their hand to their mouth in thought. “I think I have an idea. Let’s force you guys to get to know each other better before you talk it out.” 

Ten minutes later, Lance and Keith are situated on the couch, Pidge and Hunk sitting across from them. 

“Okay,” began Pidge. “Let’s start off with a simple question. What’s your favorite band? Lance? You go first.” 

Lance thought for a moment, then brightened. “Fall Out Boy.” 

Keith let out a whoop of laughter, falling forward. Lance turned a maroon color, glaring at Keith, who was still shaking with repressed laughter. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing,” said Keith, snorting. “It’s just… are you a emo thirteen year old girl?” 

Lance sputtered in indignation while Keith began to yell: “It’s not a phase, mom!” 

“Fine!” Lance spat out, shoving Keith. “What’s _your_ favorite band, asshole?” 

Keith finally sobered up and cleared his throat. “I don’t really have a favorite _band_ , but I have a favorite _artist_ \--” Lance rolled his eyes. “-- and that’s Andrew Bird.” 

“Who the fuck is that?” asked Lance, looking bored. 

“He’s a solo musician whose albums lay in the folk or swing music genre and--” 

“You’re such a stuffy hipster!” yelled Lance, then he shoved Keith again, who shoved him back. They began another shouting match, while Pidge and Hunk exchanged an annoyed glance. Pidge’s eye twitched. 

“I have a better idea, boys,” declared Pidge suddenly, standing up. A few minutes later, Keith and Lance had Xbox controllers in their hands. Pidge put some kind of RPG shooter game into Lance’s Xbox that neither Lance nor Keith had heard of before, and told the two of them to play. 

“It’ll be a bonding experience!” Pidge exclaimed, proud of their own idea. 

“Shall we leave them to bond in private?” asked Hunk, nudging Pidge, who grinned in response. 

“I think we shall!” 

Then, it was just Keith and Lance, alone in their apartment, glaring at the controllers in their hands. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Keith grunted: “Let’s just play this. I have nothing better to do anyway.” 

“Of course you don’t,” replied Lance angrily. Keith’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing in response. 

Keith booted up the game, and soon enough the pair were concentrating solely on the screen, getting into the rhythm of the game. They passed through each level flawlessly, working effortlessly together in perfect sync. After a few hours passed, neither of them could contain their giddiness as they scored win after win. 

“We’re pretty good at this!” exclaimed Lance, breathless. Keith turned to him, a small smile on his face. Lance realized that this was the first time he’d ever seen Keith give him a genuine smile. 

“Yeah. We work really well as a team,” responded Keith, his eyes soft. Lance felt his stomach drop out from under him, and he equated it to be nerves. 

Lance put down his controller, and Keith followed suit. “So. I guess we should talk,” Keith began hesitantly, looking at Lance. “Why did you decide you hated me before we even met?” 

Humiliation pricked at Lance as he realized he was going to have to relay his failure to get into his dream school, as well as his stupid decision to hate Keith just because he goes there. 

He told his story to Keith -- how crushed he felt when the school hardly even considered him, how his dream of becoming a pilot was completely destroyed, how jealous he was that Keith gets to become what Lance has always dreamed of becoming. Keith listened silently, nodding occasionally at Lance to indicate that he was listening. 

Finally, when Lance finished telling his story to Keith, the other boy was silent for a moment. After a minute of thinking, he spoke. “I understand why you’re upset, Lance, but you have to understand that piloting is also my goal in life, and that I didn’t choose to attend the school to personally spite you.” 

“I know,” said Lance miserably. “I tend to… overreact to a lot of things. I’m sorry I treated you like shit.” 

Keith gave Lance another one of his small smiles and bumped his shoulder with his own. “I’m sorry too. For going along with your shit.”

\--

After that, the two of them got along a lot better. They would go grocery shopping together, play videogames together, complain to each other about their shitty professors, or just talk aimlessly about nothing at all.

They ate dinner together almost every night -- dinner that Keith cooked. At first, Keith only made food for himself, and Lance would ask to have some of his food. Then, after this went on for several weeks, Keith began to make food for the both of them. 

Hunk and Pidge came over often -- as well as Shiro, Keith’s friend that he would mention from time to time. The first time Shiro and Lance met, Lance seemed extremely intimidated by the older and taller man, but after they all played Super Smash Bros. together (and Shiro let Lance win -- not that Lance could tell) they got along perfectly. 

Keith and Lance’s ultimate bonding time was when they play videogames together. They always worked as a team and did extremely well. The two of them sat side by side on Lance’s cheap couch, shoulders touching. This is when they felt the closest -- when they were fighting side by side, working together.

\--

One night, about a month after Keith started living in the apartment with Lance, it hit Lance that his life was… scarily domestic.

He’s was at the dinner table, eating some kind of pasta dish that Keith made, listening attentively while Keith complained about some assignment that he had to do for school. He had heard Shiro whisper to Pidge last time the five of them got together that he and Keith acted like an old married couple, but he just wrote it off as his friends poking fun at him. But, as he stared at Keith in his old Star Wars pajamas, talking with his mouth full of pasta, it hit Lance that they actually _do_ act like a married couple. A wave of nausea hit him. 

Keith was still in the middle of a story, but Lance stood up and interrupted him. 

“I don’t really feel well tonight, dude. Thanks for the dinner,” He said curtly.

Keith looked surprised, then a bit disappointed -- Lance didn’t read into that. Keith then said something along the lines of “feel better” as Lance puts his dish in the sink, but he wasn’t really paying attention. His mind felt clouded as he stepped out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, shutting the door gently. Once inside his bedroom, he rested his back to the door and slid down slowly until he reached the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

The nauseous feeling didn’t dissipate after a while, so Lance pulled out his phone from his pajama pants, dialing Pidge’s number. 

When Pidge picked up, they sounded pretty exhausted. “Lance, I’m working on a project now, so--” 

“Oh,” interrupted Lance. “Sorry.” 

Pidge paused, and Lance assumed they could hear something wrong in his tone, because after a beat of silence they asked: “What’s wrong?” 

“What… what do you think of me and Keith?” asked Lance hesitantly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… if you didn’t really know us, would you think Keith and I are… dating?” 

Pidge snorted loudly, which they did very often. “Are you serious? You called to ask me _this_?” 

“Pidge…” 

“Seriously, Lance, what does it matter if people think you’re dating? It’s not like it’s important what other people think--” 

“It is important!” Lance shouted into the phone, startling both himself and Pidge. 

Pidge was silent for a moment. “Why is it important, Lance?” 

“Because! Because… I don’t want people to think I’m… gay,” said Lance, whispering the last word. 

Pidge was silent again, and this time Lance could practically hear their anger on the other side of the phone. “Why are you so scared of being thought of as gay? It seems like you make a constant effort to make sure that you appear as straight as possible and I don’t fucking get it, Lance. You act like being gay is a bad thing, that if you even _slightly_ give off the vibe that you are anything but as straight as a pole, no girl will ever love you. Get your shit together, dude. Be more secure in your sexuality.” 

Lance’s mouth opened and closed, completely lost for words. It seemed as though he didn’t have to come up with anything to say, though, because he eventually heard the dial tone. Pidge hung up.

\--

Lance’s feelings didn’t get better after this. He fell into a restless sleep every night, tossing and turning, thinking about too many things at once -- was Pidge still mad at him? Do people actually think he’s gay? _Was_ he something other than straight?

Today, he was sitting in the living room, watching crappy daytime television in order to procrastinate on writing his essay, when Keith walked in. Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but Keith was shirtless, wearing only a towel on his hips. 

“Lance? We need more shampoo. I just used the rest of it right now, and I wanted to remind you before I forgot.” 

Lance simply sat there, his eyes wide, staring at Keith for a few seconds longer than normal. It suddenly hit Lance how creepy he must look in the moment because he physically startled, then turned red and looked pointedly away from Keith. 

“Y-Yeah. I’ll stop by the store on my way back from class later today.” 

Keith stared at him for a beat longer, then turned around and walked back into his bedroom to change. Lance was still staring at the floor as he left, his face still on fire.

 _Kill me,_ Lance thought to himself in humiliation, rubbing his face with his hands.

\--

_Hands ran over Lance’s body, large and calloused, making him shiver and breathe heavier. Lips came to his neck, kissing down and leaving fire in their wake. Lance put his hands in black hair, pulling and moaning -- Lance had never felt so aroused in his fucking life._

 __“Lance.” _The boy in the dream moaned, and Lance whimpered in response. The dream boy palmed him through his boxers, then slipped his hand into them, and Lance practically blissed out. It felt so good, it felt_ so fucking good… __

 _Dark eyes met his own, and it was Keith making him feel so good, it was Keith, it was Keith…_

Lance woke up covered in a feverish sweat -- he was breathing heavily and shaking. He could feel the hard-on in his pants, and he didn’t think about it, just stuck his hand in his pants and thought about the dream. Thought about Keith. 

It didn’t take him long to climax after that, and after he was done he sat there in silence, calming down and steadying his breathing. 

Lance turned around and looked at the clock, which read 6:00 AM. It was six in the morning, he could hear Keith walking around their apartment, and he was about to have a panic attack. 

_We’re friends,_ Lance told himself hysterically. _We’re finally fucking friends and I have to mess this up majorly because I’m developing gay feelings for my friend._

He grabbed a pillow and shoved it in his face, groaning in agony. After a while of wallowing in misery, he decided he needed to come up with a plan of action. What to do now that he couldn’t deny the fact that he had feelings for Keith. 

“I’m bisexual,” said Lance, quietly to himself. “I’m bisexual for fucking _Keith._ ” 

He wanted to call Pidge, because he always called them when he was having a crisis, but he knew they would be pissed off about him calling so early in the morning. Plus, they never made up from the last call, when Pidge got upset. Sure, Pidge came over once or twice after the call, but they never really looked at Lance -- and Pidge only talked to Keith when they came over. The two of them haven’t spoken to each other since that call. 

Lance looked at Pidge’s contact in his phone, and thought, _fuck it._

“Lance, you better have a _really fucking good reason_ for calling me at _six in the fucking morning_ or I swear to _fucking god_ \--” 

“Pidge, I’m sorry for calling so early, but we have to talk.” 

Pidge groaned into the speaker, and Lance heard them sitting up. “Talk about what? How much of a douchebag you are for calling me at _six in the fucking morning_?” 

“Yes, well... no. I wanted to talk about how much of a douchebag I am in general.” 

“...Go on…” 

“Pidge, I’m sorry about the other day. When I said I didn’t want people to think I’m gay. You know what I meant by that. I’m… I’m always trying to impress other people and I’m scared of being looked at as weird. Not that being gay is weird. I just. Ugh. You know what I mean, right?” 

“...Yeah, Lance.” 

“And you’re, like, the only one I can talk to about this stuff because you understand it more than Hunk, and… dude, I’m sorry. Can we please continue being friends?” 

Pidge sighed. “We’re always friends, you idiot. Is that all you wanted?”

“No. I… I have to tell you something. I think I’m... bisexual.” 

“Oh?” said Pidge, sounding more interested. “And what makes you think that?” 

“I had a, um, particular type of dream about Keith--” 

“ _Ew_.” 

“Yeah. Well, not ‘ew’ for me, but, y’know--” 

“ _Lance!_ ” 

“Sorry! But, I think… I think I like Keith?” 

“Well, that much was obvious to everyone.”

Lance blinked. “Wait, what do you mean?” 

“I mean, the two of you constantly sit pressed up against each other, and even when Hunk, Shiro and I are all there the two of you still only stare at each other like you’re the only people in the room. You couldn’t make it more obvious if you tried.” 

Lance took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “So all three of you guys think Keith and I like each other?” 

“Yeah.” Pidge replied simply, and Lance felt his chest tighten. 

_It shouldn’t bother me that they know, but it does,_ Lance thought angrily to himself, and stayed silent for a few beats. 

“You’re not going to do something stupid, are you, Lance?” 

Lance let out a sudden whoop of laughter, trying to sound like his normal self. “Please, Pidge, when have I ever done anything stupid?” 

“... Do you really want me to answer that?”

\--

Lance, of course, did something stupid. Every time Keith even looked at Lance, he’d get worked up and frustrated because of his feelings for the other boy, then start to lash out.

They almost acted like they did when they first met each other -- they would argue over small things, Lance would never really look Keith in the eyes, and they stopped eating dinner together. 

_This isn’t the way I wanted it to go,_ Lance thought to himself one night after a particularly nasty fight. Keith had shoved him and asked what his problem was, and Lance couldn’t respond. _Because what, honestly, is my fucking problem? There isn’t one. I’m just being an idiot._

The next day the two of them did everything they could to avoid each other -- they left at separate times, arrived at separate times, and they didn’t look at each other whenever they walked around in their apartment. 

However, when Keith opened the fridge and saw it was empty, he couldn't help but whirl on Lance. 

“Isn’t it your fucking job to do grocery shopping?” he snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at Lance. 

“It’s both of our jobs!” yelled Lance, throwing his hands up. “We used to do it together.” 

“Yeah, so why don’t we?” asked Keith, his arms still crossed. “Oh, wait. _I’m_ not the one who started to act like an asshole all of the sudden for no reason whatsoever--” 

“Fuck off!” screamed Lance, then he rushed at Keith to shove him, hard. 

“Fuck you,” sneered Keith, then they were both suddenly rolling around on the ground. 

They were hysterically punching and kicking at each other, hitting every part of each others bodies that they could reach. 

“Fuck you!” yelled Keith again, rolling around and pinning Lance below him. “We’re supposed to be friends and you just _turn on me all of the sudden--_ ” 

“It’s none of your fucking--” Lance managed to throw a hard left hook at Keith’s cheek, snapping his head to the side, “-- _business!_ ” 

“Yes, it is! Because we’re supposed to be _friends!_ ” 

Lance snarled: “Yeah, well, we’re not!” 

Keith managed to pin him down again, and Lance struggled with all of his might, but he couldn’t leave the other boy’s grip. 

“Yes, we _are_ ,” Keith gritted out. “So tell me why you hate me all of the sudden.” 

“Because…” Lance took in a shaky breath. “Because you’re _Keith_!”

The room was scarily quiet for a moment, the silence only filled by the sound of both of them breathing harshly. 

“I can’t stand you because you’re fucking _Keith_ ,” Lance finally gritted out. “You’re so much better than me, you’re going to _my_ dream school that I was too shit to get into, you’re everything I wish I could be, and the worst part is that I get these _shitty butterflies in my stomach whenever you--_ ” he cut himself off and took in a staggering breath, his eyes wide. He almost didn’t want to look up at Keith, but he forced his eyes to go up to the boy above him. 

Keith was staring at him like he finally understands something, and this pissed Lance off. 

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Lance bit out, struggling violently again. “Fuck you, Keith, you don’t know _anything_ \--” 

“ _Lance_ \--” 

“Shut _up_! Let fucking go of me!”

“ _Lance_ , calm down.” 

Lance took in deep, gulping breaths of air, looking anywhere but Keith. 

“Do you like me?” 

Lance closed his eyes, feeling tears of humiliation prick behind his eyelids. 

“It’s okay, Lance--” 

“Yes. I fucking do,” Lance gritted out, keeping his eyes closed. He was too afraid of what he’d see if he opened them. 

The room was quiet once again, and Lance hardly breathed, too horrified at his confession to make any noise at all. 

“I…” Keith sounded lost for words. “I never thought of you like that before.” 

Lance felt bitter disappointment rise up his throat like bile, stinging harshly. _I should have expected this,_ he told himself. _But why does it hurt so goddamn much--_

“But…” Keith continued, not noticing Lance’s disappointment. “I’m not… completely repulsed by the idea.” 

Lance let out a sudden, humorless laugh. “Gee, thanks,” he commented, his voice cracking. He finally opened his eyes to see Keith staring back, cautiously. 

“What?” he croaked out, feeling vulnerable under Keith’s stare. “Keith, why are you staring at--” 

He’s cut off by a mouth on his own, pressing softly. Before he could properly register it, Keith pulled back, looking at Lance hesitantly. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he muttered out quickly, his cheeks red. 

Lance hesitated slightly. Truth be told, he had never kissed anyone either -- he wasn’t exactly very popular in high school, or even in college. He’d promised himself that during his first kiss he’d act like he knew what he was doing… but right now, he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest because of how nervous he was. 

“Me neither,” Lance ends up saying, and then they’re kissing again. 

They were both sloppy at first, mainly because they were both completely inexperienced. But, once they got more used to the feeling of kissing, the two of them got _a lot_ more into it. 

Lance used the opportunity to shove Keith, who was still above him. Keith looked extremely confused as he practically toppled over, landing onto his side. 

He sat up. “What the--?” 

He got broken off by Lance sitting himself down on Keith’s lap, grabbing at the back of his neck and pulling him forward to kiss. This was a way less awkward position, and Lance praised himself internally for his good decision to change positions when Keith slided his hands up Lance’s shirt, his cold hands pressed against Lance’s torso. 

Lance was making small noises against Keith’s mouth while the other boy slid his fingers out of his shirt and up into his hair. Suddenly he _pulled_ and Lance had to break away from the kiss to gasp, while Keith grinned wickedly from across him. It was the first time Lance had ever see him truly grin with all of his teeth, and he laughed breathlessly, shifting himself on Keith’s lap. 

Keith moved his legs as they continue to kiss, this thigh brushing Lance’s crotch, and _oh_ \-- 

Lance broke away from the kiss again to let out a small broken moan, and Keith stopped moving, his face completely flushed. Lance’s hard-on was pressing into Keith’s leg, and when Lance looked down, he could see Keith’s pants were tight as well. 

“K-Keith, I…” Lance gasped out, suddenly overwhelmed. “It’s too much--” 

“Yeah,” agreed Keith nervously, looking just as overwhelmed. 

Lance flipped himself off of Keith’s lap, sitting himself down next to the other boy. They both tried to catch their breaths, attempting to calm down. 

It was silent for a minute or two before Keith finally nudged Lance’s shoulder with his own. 

“Do you want to order a pizza or something? I’m kinda hungry,” asked Keith awkwardly, and Lance grinned. 

“Oh, _hell yeah,_ dude. We can eat it off of each other and--” 

He was broken off by Keith punching him hard in the side, his face flushed. Lance fell over, laughing, and pulled down Keith with him.

\--

After that, things got weirder. _Well,_ Lance thought to himself, _weirder in a good way._

It all started with Lance coming home from class the day after his confession to Keith. He came in, drained, and dropped his bag on the floor, kicking off his shoes. Right as he turned around, he came face to face with Keith, who was standing by the door. 

“Uh,” said Lance eloquently, and Keith pushed him up against the door until his back was flat against it. 

“Hi,” said Keith, leaning forward until his forehead was touching Lance’s. 

“H-Hey,” stuttered Lance, breathless, and Keith let out a puff of laughter before leaning forward to kiss the absolute hell out of him. 

This became a new tradition of theirs, and whenever one of the pair would come home, the other would shove him against the door and kiss them until they were both breathless and hard. 

Whenever the pair would play videogames together, they would always have to pause the game because Keith snaked a hand up Lance’s shirt, or Lance would move his hand along Keith’s thigh. They would end up pressed against each other on the couch, sucking bruises on each other’s jaws. 

They never went further than this, though, which led to a lot of cold showers and jerking off alone in their rooms. They were both fairly new at the romance thing, and each was too hesitant to go further than kissing. 

Of course, the others noticed the new way they acted around each other. Pidge noticed the first time they walked into their apartment after the whole confession fiasco a few days prior. It took Hunk and Shiro a while to figure it out, but eventually the whole group knew about the nature of their relationship with each other and would wiggle their eyebrows whenever the pair sat too close to each other. 

It was as humiliating as it was fun -- they would have to be embarrassed by their friends whenever they came over, but after Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro left the two of them would fall asleep together on the couch, limbs tangled together.

One particular night, the two of them were kissing deeply on the couch after pausing their Mario Kart game. Lance was leaning above Keith, biting and sucking at his lips while Keith gasped underneath him. 

Lance felt hot, almost feverish, as he moved from Keith’s mouth to his neck, kissing down to reach his collarbone in order to bite at it. He could feel Keith tugging at the bottom of his shirt, trying to get it off, and Lance sat up in order to slip his shirt over his head. Keith moved his hands all over Lance’s body, and soon enough Keith’s shirt was off too. 

“ _Lance…_ ” said Keith breathlessly, adjusting himself so that his thigh was between Lance’s legs, and vice versa. When Lance moved down to kiss him, Keith’s thigh brushed against his crotch, and he moaned against Keith’s lips. 

When he pulled back, Keith was staring at him with dilated pupils, his eyes glittering in the dim light. His mouth was red and raw from kissing, and Lance thinks, hysterically, that he has never seen him look more attractive. 

Keith lifted his thigh up again to brush against Lance’s hardening dick again, and Lance gasped, his grip on Keith tightening. It didn’t seem as though they were going to stop this time. 

Keith continued to grind his thigh on Lance’s hard-on, and Lance scrambled to do something to make Keith feel good as well. He ended up digging the heel of his palm onto the tent in Keith’s pajama pants, and Keith gasped, his thigh stuttering from where it had been rubbing across Lance’s dick. 

They became desperate after that, gasping and moaning into each other's throats, whispering each other’s names. Lance was the first one to climax, grinding his hips down on Keith’s leg, his back arching as he came inside of his pants. Keith followed soon after, his hips stuttering from where they had been rutting against Lance’s hand. 

Lance flopped down to lay on top of Keith, his head resting on Keith’s shoulder. They were both breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath and come down from their climax.

After a while, Keith spoke: “We should've taken our pants off.” 

Lance grinned. “We really should've.” 

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance, pressing his bare chest to the other boys. “We’ll do that next time.” 

“Next time,” said Lance, breathless. “Yeah.” 

They lapsed into another silence, both of them closing their eyes and becoming tired. A thought hit Lance suddenly, and he opened his eyes to stare at Keith. 

“Keith,” Lance said hesitantly, “what are we?” 

“Humans,” Keith replied tiredly, and Lance kicked him softly. 

“Shut up! I meant, are we… boyfriends?” 

Keith thought for a few beats, then replied: “Would you be comfortable with that? If you are, then yeah, I guess we are.” 

“Of course I’m comfortable with that, dumbass,” Lance said happily, then held Keith’s face in his hands and kissed him softly. 

Keith smiled when he pulled back, wrapping his arms tighter around Lance. “Boyfriends,” he said wonderingly, dropping his forehead to rest against Lance’s. 

“It’s about damn time--” Lance starts, but Keith shuts him up by kissing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> idk why i wrote pidge and lance as best friends, but it kinda ended up that way... whoops. 
> 
> sorry i couldn't really fit in allura and coran, but i didn't really want to force them into the story!! i really dislike trying to force characters in a story just to have them in there, so i just decided to leave them out. 
> 
> and, i'm also sorry there wasn't a lot of smut in this story. if you guys really want, i can write a one-shot sequel to this fic where they do other smutty stuff? that's only if a lot of you guys demand it, heh! : ) 
> 
> anyway, thank you SO much for reading! i haven't really written a long, serious fic like this in a long time, so this fic might be a little rusty, but i hope you liked it anyway. 
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated, and they give me a lot of inspiration to write other works : )
> 
> my tumblr is [slendermanhood](http://slendermanhood.tumblr.com/), please follow me there!!


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